Invisible to all, except one
by rosemoon1999
Summary: Canada is invisible. Thats how it has always been, and always will be. But what would happen if a certain red-eyed person took an interest in him? *I suck at summaries :0* Warning- past rape, some language, and slight OOC in parts. *HIATUS*
1. Ensnarled birds

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHNG HETALIA-RELATED**

Canada strode into the conference room, head up and shoulders back. His sandy-blonde hair was clean, his clothes fresh, and eyes glimmering with a sparkle that only a love of life could bring. In his arms was the ever-present mini polar bear named Kumajirou. Kuma had been bathed and clipped the previous night, much to the bear's displeasure. Yes, both the Canadian and the bear were ready to take on the world, literally. But there was one issue.

Canada was invisible to the world.

It had happened gradually. First, he was just confused with his brother, America. Then the other countries, particularly England, began to forget his name. Eventually, the day came where nobody could even see him. It wasn't like Canada had mystically turned invisible, he was still there. You just had to look very hard to see him. Oh sure, he was still confused with America. That would never change. But it got to the point where Russia had SAT on him for an entire world meet and hadn't known. But Canada didn't mind. Much. As long as nobody sat on him or accused him of being a ghost, being invisible was fine by him.

The meeting room was almost empty, save for Russia, (Canada felt a rush of relief at that) England, France, America, and China. Quietly, he took a seat as far away from Russia as possible, lest the huge country decide to lean sideways or something. "Hello" He said softly to France, who was two seats away. France looked around, brow furrowing. "Papa, its Canada. Your ex-colony?" Matthew called, a little louder. The nation of love sat back, looking perplexed. Someone was talking to him, he was sure of it. But the only ones here were Russia, England, America, and China. America and England were arguing, per usual. China was writing, and Russia was just sitting, a vacant smile plastered on his giant face. France sighed in relief as his good friend Spain walked in the door. So he wasn't going crazy. "Hey, Antonio!" Called France, leaving a slightly crestfallen Canada to stare at where his papa had been. His bear looked up at him. "Who are you?" it asked, for the 10th time today. The Canadian smiled softly, looking down at his only friend in this whole, lonely world. "I am Canada." He whispered, ever quietly.

"ALRIGHT! LET'S GET THIS MEETING STARTED! I'M THE HERO, SO I'LL SPEAK FIRST!" bellowed out America, pointing to the corner. Most of the countries broke out into protest, saying America always went first, their country had more problems, what made America so special, ect. Canada looked down at Kumajirou, smiling softly. Sometimes it was hard to believe that this loudmouthed, obnoxious man was his brother. He sat for awhile, lost in memory.

Until something feathery flew into his hair.

Matthew jumped, shaken roughly from his respite to something thrashing in his hair. Gently, as not to frighten whatever it was, Canada gingerly reached a hand to feel what it was. "Don't touch him! You'll only scare him!" hissed a voice in his ear. A hand that was not his grabbed Canada's arms, pulling him out of the chair.

"Um, Prussia? What are you doing?" asked Poland, reclining in his chair. "Yes, Prussia. Why are you pulling at air?" sniffed Austria, lofty and aloof.

A voice from behind him said "Pulling at- what? Isn't it obvious? My Gilbird has flown into Canada's hair, and I have to go free him. Don't make any world-shattering decisions without my awesomeness around." The other countries stared hard at Canada. He squirmed uncomfortably. How did America do it, act so flawless and confident with everybody staring at him? He squeezed Kuma harder, wishing to disappear.

"Oh! Canada!" exclaimed Spain, slapping a hand to his face. "I didn't even see you here!" Canada smiled shyly at him. "Hello" He whispered. "Canada! I see you now! Hello!" cried France, raising a hand. "Bonjour papa." Murmured the blonde, staring at his shoes. More and more countries were starting to see him, and began calling out apologies and greetings.

"Oi! Canada! Good to see ya!"

"Hey, Canada! Long time no see!"

"Canada!"

Prussian hands yanked at his arms, half leading, half dragging the Canadian away. "Happy reunions can wait. Gilbird needs freedom. Now."

When they got to the hallway, Canada was finally able to turn around to see his assailant. His eyes widened. The Canadian had never seen a person like Prussia. Tall, standing at about 5'8ish, he had a blue shirt and tan pants on. But the most remarkable thing about the Prussian was his eyes. They weren't brown, blue, or even purple. No, his eyes were a deep, gorgeous shade of crimson. Canada stared, mesmerized. Prussia cleared his throat.

"What're you staring at?"


	2. Why?

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED**

Canada quickly turned his head and cowered, embarrassed at being caught. "N-nothing. It's just that I've never seen a person with eyes like yours. I'm sorry for staring." Prussia snorted, amused. "Don't be. Feel free to bask in my awesomeness." Canada timidly glanced back at him. "W-what? You're not angry?" Prussia frowned and began to pull at the blonde's hair. "Don't stutter. It makes you seem vulnerable and scared. Stand up straight. Look me in my awesome eyes when I'm talking to you. See, this is why the others overlook you. You don't make yourself noticed. You're content to blend in, yet get irritated when people forget your name or confuse you with your brother."

Canada held back a whimper as Prussia's tugging got harsher. "I'm happy to be forgotten. I'm uncomfortable in the spotlight." Prussia snorted again, this time in exasperation. "You are lying to me. Why do you lie to ze awesome Prussia? It's obvious being ignored, forgotten, or confused with America bothers you." There was a chirp, and something fell in front of him. The silver-haired man bent down, still holding onto a lock of the blonde's hair. "Gilbird! You alright?" The bird ruffled its feathers, and launched itself into orbit around Prussia's head. Canada smiled softly at Gilbert. "Thank you." He turned to go, but stopped at a sharp head pain. "Not so fast." Said Prussia, smirking. Matthew frowned softly. "What?" he asked, barely loud enough to be heard. "When you walk back into that meeting room, I don't want you to slink in like you've done something terrible and timidly take your seat. I want you to stride- no, strut in like you own the place, and yell out 'Hello, fellow countries. I am Canada. If you they protest, flip zem off and say Suck It Lozahs.' Then, take that pitcher France usually uses, pour yourself some water, look France in the eye and say 'Hello. I am Canada, your ex-colony. Why do you forget about me so?' Then, and only then, take your seat not in the back corner where you were but next to me, near the front. Got it? Good."

Canada stared at him with wide eyes. "Why would I ever dare do something like that? I told you, I'm perfectly content being forgotten." He murmured, eyes pleading against it. "Oh please. Do not try to pull that. It's glaringly obvious you don't feel that way. I am Prussia, and can tell you're lying. Do not lie to me." Sensing defeat, Canada bowed his head. "Ok." He whispered. Prussia jerked his head up by the hair. "Don't do that." The blonde flinched, but swiftly corrected himself. "I won't."

The albino released his hair, satisfied. "Good. Now, get in there!" He gave Canada a shove toward the door. "No! I-I- I can't. They won't see me. They never do." Prussia spun the smaller nation around, and placed his hands on the timid person's shoulders. "Matthew Williams, you visten to me" He began, crimson eyes blazing. "You are a remarkable person. A wonderful, underappreciated, kind person. Why don't you act like it? Why are you so shy?"

Canada quailed under the Prussian's probing, insistent gaze. He shut his own eyelids, wanting nothing more than to dissipate into nothingness once again. "Why do you care so much?" said a voice, ever soft, ever timid. Did….. Did I just say that?! Thought Canada, snapping his own eyelids open. "What?" asked Prussia, seemingly confused. Goodbye life, thought the Canadian grimly. Taking a deep breath, he repeated the question:

"Why do you care?"


	3. An unexpected visitor

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA RELATED!**

(_I'm extremly sorry for the late upload :/. So, what should happen after this? Tell me ASAP!)_

Prussia stared at him, expression unreadable. "Why do you question help?" He countered, emotionless. Canada flinched, turning his head. "I-….I'm not. I'm just curious why you care so much." One Prussian hand left his right shoulder, and found residence on the Canadian's chin. That hand gently turned Matthew's face back forward. "Why do I care so much?" Prussia murmured softly. "Because-"

Click. The door to the meeting room opened. "Ahahahahahaaa! Prussia, Canada, what were you two doing?"

Both jumped backwards, startled. America stood in the door frame, flanked by England and France. Prussia put his hands on his hips. "It does not mahter vat we vere doing. Ets none of your business." He said assertively, accent coming out much stronger than usual. Canada shrunk, flushing bright red. France grinned lazily. "Well done, my boy. You've seduced Prussia. Nice choice, I approve." Canada's eyes widened. "N-No! It's not like that! I swear!" he whispered. But, alas, he was not heard.

Prussia rolled his crimson eyes. "You're just jealous that my awesomeness will never be yours, not even in a million years."

"What's that suppose to mean? I am France, the country of love. I can have anybody I could ever dream of!"

"Except me." Smirked Prussia. Everyone gasped. "Oh, snap!" said America. France narrowed his cerulean eyes. "Why would you ever say that? I'm fabulous!" "But not awesome. And everybody who's anybody knows awesome is much better than fabulous!"

In the arguing, nobody noticed poor Canada slink away, grateful for his invisibility.

"What am I going to do, Kuma?" moaned Canada, head on his kitchen table. Mr. Kumajirou looked him up and down. "Who are you?" The blonde sighed. "I'm Canadia! Your owner! The person who feeds you, loves you, bathes you, and makes sure you're comfortable? Ring a bell?" He yelled. (This was actually just barely above a whisper.) The polar bear cringed. Canada sighed. "I'm sorry. But I'm just sick of people forgetting about me. I guess Prussia was right." "Prussia? What about him?" inquired Mr. Kumajirou. Canada took a deep breath. "Duringtheworldmeetingabirdfl ewintomyhairanditturnedoutto bePrussiassohetookmeintotheh allwaytogetitoutandwhenhedid hedidn'tallowmetogobackintothemeeti ngroomunlessIdidabunchofstuf flikepourwaterformyselffromF rance'spitcherandsitinthefrontrow-" He paused, sucking air into his lungs "-andwhenIaskedhimwhyhewantedt ohelpheputhishandsonmyshould ersbutbeforehecouldsayanythi ngAmericaopenedthedoorandcau ghtusinapositionlikewewerego nnakissand…and… I don't know." Kuma nodded slowly, and then left.

Canada frowned. "Thanks for nothing." He murmured. He knew it wasn't right to say that, but was too confused to care. In his mind's eye, he could see Prussia's eyes still staring, still aflame with intensity as he had told Canada how wonderful he was….. The country sighed, dejected. Why can't I get him out of my head? Why? He wondered. Is it because he's the only one who's paid attention to me? What should I do? This isn't going to go away soon, I can tell. Maybe I can talk to him, and ask again why he cares? Yes, he decided. I will do that. Right after a shower.

He got all his clothes, choosing a simple blue tee-shirt/black pants combination. He got a towel, and padded off to the bathroom, calling to Kumajirou "I'll be in the shower!" (Again, this was barely above his normal whisper.)

He turned on the water, trying not to think about Prussia. If I think about him, I'll only lose nerve he though, undressing. The water was warm, so he stepped in, still thinking about not thinking about Prussia. I mustn't think about him. I mustn't think about him. I mustn't think-

BAM! The door flew open, and in strode Prussia.

(A/N: I'm serious! Tell me what you guys think should happen! Because after this, I'm kinda stuck lol.)


	4. Raised questions

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED.**

"P-Prussia!" spluttered Canada, pulling his shower curtain over himself. "What are you doing?" Prussia stared at him levelly. "I need to talk to you. Now." Canada began to flush red. "Can't it wait?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"No."

That figures, thought Canada. "May I get dressed?" Prussia closed the door and sat in front of it, never breaking his stare. "Go ahead." The blonde blinked, wondering how he would get out of this. He frowned slightly. Why did this feel so familiar? He blinked away a water droplet.

And saw France.

A squeak tore itself from Matthew's throat as he slipped backward. His breath caught violently in his windpipe. "Hello, my little colony." Said a voice from a memory long forgotten. A shadow loomed over him. "NO! GET AWAY!" He screamed, voice distorted and ugly. Prussia frowned at him. "GO! GET AWAY FROM ME, FRANCE" He yelled, voice at a normal person's volume. To him, it felt like he was going to shatter the world with the loudness.

Prussia backed away, intimidated. France? What was he saying? France was nowhere near here. Canada grabbed for something, anything to throw at the shadow that was advancing. "NO! PLEASE! NOT AGAIN! NNOOOOO!" He bellowed, hands landing on a shampoo bottle. Half- wild with terror, the bottle flew across the bathroom, leaving a hole in the wall. Prussia scrambled out of the bathroom, fleeing for his life.

Canada curled into a ball, spluttering as water flooded his nose. His hands clawed at his ears, trying desperately to block out that voice of a memory.

"_Papa! What are you doing in here?" France grinned, eyes bloodshot. He was obviously drunk. "Well hello Matthew. I'm just coming to see my son. Is that a problem?" Canada shrunk a little, trying to cover himself with the scanty shower curtain. "No papa, but would you mind stepping out for a few minutes? I can get dressed, and we can visit." _

_ "_Noooo!" Moaned the blonde, shaking. Get out of there! Leave!

_France grinned a terrifying grin. Leaving the doorway and walking toward the bathtub, he said "Mon fils, you don't need clothes for what I have planned." Little Canada frowned slightly, confused. "What-… What do you mean? What do you have planned?"_

Canada knew what was coming. The only thing he could do was hunch tighter and ride out the memory, begging for his past self to run far, far away before it was too late.

_Frances grin got wider, more sadistic. "Rapports sexueles." He whispered. Canada's eyes got wide as France easily scooped the young boy up and crashing him onto his own waiting, hungry lips. Matthew stiffened, and began struggling to get away. France pulled back, smiling slightly. "Non -non, ne luttent pas." He squeezed his cute colony's cheeks, and slid a finger into his mouth._

Choking on water, Matthew cried out in pain. He knew what was coming, but couldn't stop it. France was going to rape him, and Canada couldn't do anything about it. No! He cried to himself. That was long ago, not now! Snap out of it! You can do it! He encouraged  
himself.

Slowly, ever so slowly, his muscles relaxed and the memory faded, leaving him drained and broken. The water was now ice-cold, turning his skin numb. Shivering from not just cold, Canada got out and dried off,

Ready (ish) to go see Prussia.

_(A/N: So, since nobody gave me ideas, I wrote this. If you don't like it, well, you only have yourself to blame lol. Don't get e wrong, I loved the fact that you guys reviewed. Well, idk where I'm going, so I'll just end it. Maihai!)_


	5. Breakdown

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED.**

Slowly, he got dressed and walked out, wondering how he was going to explain what had happened, or if Prussia was still here and not far, far away.

His answer came in the form of somebody grabbing his shoulders and spinning him around. Crimson eyes gleamed with worry, concern, and… something else? Before Canada could analyze any further, Prussia shook him. "What was that all about?" He demanded, fingers digging into the blonde. Canada squirmed. "Prussia, you're hurting me! Please let go."

Instantly, Gilbert released his death grip, but kept his hands where they were. "Sorry." Canada rolled his aching shoulders. "It's alright. Let's go to the living room, I'll explain there..." He led the way; mind frantically spinning to come up with a lie, a modified truth, anything besides what had actually went through his brain.

By the time he had sat on the couch and dragged an armchair in front of his spot for Prussia, no reasonable explanation had been reached. "So..." began Prussia, raising an expectant eyebrow. "Can you tell me exactly why you tried to take off my head with a shampoo bottle?" Canada noticeably stiffened. "Oh! That. You…..uh,…. Youjuststartledme! Yup! That's all, hahaha! Just one big scare! France"- his voice quivered ever so slightly here- "did the exact same thing which is why I yelled his name. Funny, right? Hahaha!" He said, obviously nervous. Prussia closed his eyes. "Again with the lies." He said, softly and sadly. His eyelids lifted, revealing sadness, hurt, and worry. "Why do you lie to me?"

Canada's breath hitched. "I-… I'm not lying!" He protested quietly and weakly, hating his stutter. Prussia stood up. "If you can't, or maybe won't, tell me, then I'm not going to waste my time. Goodbye, Matthew Williams."

"No! Don't leave me!" Cried Canada softly, standing. The Prussian did not look at him, just continued walking toward the exit. Placing one giant gloved hand on the door, he asked "Then will you tell me what really happened?" That was all it took to shatter the Canadian's fragile front. Slowly at first, tears began dripping from his violet-blue eyes. He sniffed, trying to stop them. Abut all he did was make Prussia turn around.

"Hey, are-"He broke off at the Canadian's tears, eyes widening. "Hey! What's wrong?" He asked, hoping he hadn't made Canada cry. The smaller nation pressed his hands into his face, tears coming down faster. "N-Nothi-" He cut himself off with a sob, the kind that comes from deep in your chest and is induced by too many feelings at once. "D-…D-…..… Don't leave meeeeee!" He wailed, before his knees gave out.

"Canada!" shouted Prussia, alarmed. He dove forward, grunting as he slammed against the floor. But he had caught Canada, and that was the important thing. Said person curled up tightly against him, clinging to the bigger man's jacket like a lifesaver. The blonde buried his face in Prussia's chest, sobbing.

"I'm so s-sorry! I Th-threw the bottle b-because I-I thought you were France coming to…. To…." He broke out into fresh sobs, shaking uncontrollably. Prussia put his arms around him, murmuring "Hush, hush now. It's ok. France won't get you here, it's ok. I'll protect you, and everything will be fine." By now, the albino had a terrible suspicion that when Canada was still France's colony, something had happened between the two that had scarred Matthew something terrible. Knowing that the Frenchman was perverted and somewhat a pedophile, he had most likely raped Canada, probably in the shower, judging from the violent way he'd reacted to being locked in his bathroom with another man. Many countries didn't know or suspect it, but Prussia was an awfully good detective.

"Canada" began Prussia in a soft, calming voice, "Tell me the honest truth." The country looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. Prussia tenderly tucked some sandy-blonde hair behind his ears.

"When you were little, did France rape you?"


	6. Secrets learned

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELTED**

The effect on Canada was instantaneous. His eyes got wide and fear-filled, and his muscles tensed. Then, half of a half of a half a second later, he threw his arms around Prussia, sobbing louder and holding on tighter than before. "Whoa!" grunted Prussia, unprepared for this. Canada clung harder, shaking more and more. "Matthew-?" Began Prussia hesitantly. "You going to be ok? Please, try to calm down. Please."

Slowly, ever so slowly, Canada calmed down enough to sit up and talk, although he never let go of Prussia. "Mattie, what happened?" Prussia asked, making sure to keep his voice calm and level. Canada sniffed and wiped his nose. "When I was still living at France's house," He started, voice soft, bitter, and fearful all at once. "I took showers when France went out, usually late at night. I did this because I was convinced the house was haunted, but if someone took a shower they wouldn't come near that person for one night."

He paused, drawing in a shuddering breath. "Then France came home early. He was dead drunk. He barged into the shower one day, and wouldn't leave when I asked him to." Canada began shaking again and his eyes started to glisten, but he plowed on resolutely. "He walked right over to me, whispering….. Things. Then, he picked me up and turned the water off. I tried to get away, but he was too strong." Canada buried his face deep into Prussia's shoulder, next words barely audible. "And then France raped me."

The blonde heard Prussia's sharp intake and felt him tense up. "Please do not think less of me." Canada whispered. A hand gently grabbed his face and turned it toward a confused albino face. "Why would I ever think less of you? It's not  
your fault. I never will be."

And then, Prussia leaned forward.

And kissed Canada.

Matthew's eyes widened, surprised. Prussia's lips were on his. And his were on Prussia's. His first thought was to get away, scream, fight, anything but submit again! But then he remembered: This was not France. Prussia was not being forceful or invading. In fact, he was gentle, and almost hesitant. The thought warmed his insides as he kissed Prussia back in the same manner.

Prussia felt Canada stiffen. For a second, he thought he should pull away and apologize. But no, he was the great Prussia and would not. A second ticked by, just long enough for him to doubt more when Canada responded.

They stayed in like that for awhile, neither moving, neither caring if others saw. (Although there was no danger of that in Canada's home.) When they pulled away, neither said anything, for there was nothing to be said.

Thunk. Something heavy landed on Prussia's right shoulder. Looking over, he saw Canada in a dead sleep. Prussia smiled. Poor thing, he thought. He's been through so much because of that bastard France. His blood began to boil, but he pushed it away. Not now, he thought. Soon, but not now.

Carefully, Prussia scoped up the sleeping blonde bridal-style and carried him to the bedroom. No way was he going to just leave Canada on the cold hard floors! Gently, he laid Canada down, covering him tenderly with a maple-printed comforter. Kissing him once on the cheek, he left, careful to lock the door.

Once outside, he took a deep breath and bellowed out a challenge for the world to hear:

"RUN, FRANCE! RUN, YOU LITTLE BASTARD. RUN FOR YOUR PATHETICE LIFE, BECAUSE I'M COMING TO KILL YOU!"

And set off in the vague direction of France's house at a sprint.


	7. Preperation

**DISCLAIER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED**

Gonna kill him. Gonna kill him. Gotta kill him. Was Prussia's thought train as he ran through the forest. He had changed direction, and was heading back to his shared house. There were a few things he needed to pick up before seeing France.

"Bruder!" he yelled, bursting into the foyer. "Can you give me a ride to France's house?"

"Who on earth would I do that?" Germany yelled back from the living room. Prussia ran into the room, calling "Because I'm your awesome brother and that is what brothers do." Germany looked up, cloth in hand. "I'm busy." He said, gesturing to the bucket of cleaning supplies by his feet. "But if you help me, we might be done in…. about 2 hours." Prussia's eyes widened. "NO! We have to go, and-"He cut himself off as a devious smirk spread across his face. Germany frowned slightly. "Prussia? What's wrong wi- HEY!" he bellowed as the albino spun on his heel and ran for Germany's bedroom.

SLAM! Prussia closed his brother's door hurriedly and locked it. He dove for the bed, getting on his stomach. "PRUSSIA! OPEN THIS DOOR! RIGHT! NOW!" Germany bellowed, pounding on the door. Prussia ignored it, searching frantically. "Where is it? Don't tell me he moved it…. Come on, its gotta be here… AHA!"

He whipped something shoe box-shaped above his head. As a matter of fact, that's what it was. But this box didn't hold shoes. Oh no, it held photos. Specifically, photos of Italy dressed up as a maid. Italy and Germany in the shower. Germany sleeping next to Italy, you get the idea.

Prussia threw the door open triumphantly. "Bruder, freeze! If you don't stop and listen, bad things will get out." Germany paused mid-punch. "What things?" The albino shook the shoebox slightly, the devious smile once again creeping over his face. In comparison, his brother paled.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Are you willing to risk it?"

Germany narrowed his eyes. "I hate you, bruder. Please don't do this." Prussia winked. "Then drive me to France's." The blonde sighed, exasperated. "Why?" "Don't ask questions!" He ran past his brother, who shouted a curse at him. Prussia didn't care. He had stuff to do yet.

The silver-haired man dramatically threw open the basement door and thundered down the steps. He lived here, in the basement. But it was heated, roomy, and furnished to his own tastes, so complaining about it was not something he did. He ran past his kitchen, past his living room, and into his bedroom with the walk-in closet. He shuffled the clothes impatiently, muttering to himself. "No, no, no, no…. What is this? Whoa! I thought I threw this out! Focus, Prussia! No, no, no, no, COME ON! Where! Is! It?! No, no, no, I've gotta clean out my closet, no, no….. Here!" he whipped the garment off its hanger with a flourish, grabbing boots also.

Into the bathroom he went, changing in about 30 seconds. Slightly tired from all the running and walking now, he went back into the living room and opened a display case, carefully taking the object out. He smiled at his reflection in the object's metal. "I'm ready. You better run, France." He whispered to himself. Picking up the shoebox, he went back upstairs, where Germany was waiting with car keys.

"What's with-"He was cut off by the shoebox rattling. "I told you, no questions. Let's go." He strode out the door, whistling for Gilbird, who flew to his head immediately. Germany followed, muttering about Prussia's mental health.

The drive was silent, what with Prussia mentally prepping himself for what was to come and Germany nervous to ask. When they arrived, Germany turned toward his passenger. "Bruder, I don't know what you are going to do. Frankly, I don't care to know. Just, don't do anything too brash, ok?"

Prussia laughed, slightly insane. "Don't worry about me, West. I'm the awesome Prussia. Nothing bad can happen to me!" With that, he was out of the car and charging up the front pathway, yelling naughty words in German. The driver watched him go, worried. But there was nothing he could do. Sighing, he turned around and went home, praying that Prussia wouldn't kill somebody.

France sat on his couch, watching the "Junior Miss France" competition on TV and sipping red wine when his doorbell rang. Who could that be? Wondered France, pausing the show and getting up. Terrible day for my staff to be gone, he thought grumpily. Otherwise, I'd have them answer it.

He opened the door, putting on a winning smile. "Bonjour! How- AYAH!" He screamed.

For standing on his doorstep brandishing a sword was a VERY angry Teutonic Knight.


	8. UPDATE: 12-11-12

UPDATTTTTEEEEEEE

Hello! I'm not dead, I swear! Long story short, I've had the flu and it kicked me to China's house and back. But I'm better! HOWEVER, I'm going to Florida (Tee Hee. America's vital region lol.) for Christmas, 'cuz my grandparents live there. We are leaving innnnnnnnn….. A week! Holy Crapith!

My mom and I still have to pack, finish shopping, (This is going to be a huge thing. There's going to be at least 15 people in one house, living there for 2 weeks and four days) find someone to take our cats, and I've got to get my homework that I'm gonna miss AND memorize the rest of my choir songs. Needless to say, it's going to be VERY hectic. I don't know if I'll be able to write. I'll try, but I'm not promising to anything.

So, please don't send Belarus or Russia or Sweden, Denmark, or ANYBODY (Especially any Nordic) after me. Thank you! Maihai~


	9. A Memory revealed

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED**

.

"P-Prussia!" Yelled France. "What are you doing?!" Prussia swung the sword, forcing the Frenchman back three tottering steps. "I." He stated, voice filled with deadly rage, "Am here to kill you." France gasped, habitually flipping his golden hair aside. "I do not get it, Prussia. You are in the Bad Touch Trio, non? And the Trio-"He was cut off with a gasp as Gilbert calmly, ever so calmly, swept a hand up and onto France's throat. "I will give you three seconds to run. After that… May heaven help you, you sick bastard." He released the man's windpipe. France gasped, wide eyed.

"One…. I will kill you."

"Gilbert! What are you talking about!"

The albino took one menacing step forward. "Two….. Better run."

France looked into the knight's crimson orbs, searching for an answer. But all he got was a dark rage, strong in hate and…. Dare he say it, something not quite right, something insane glimmering within those bloodlike depths.

"Three."

That icy voice was all it took to shake France from his shock-induced stupor. He turned tail and ran, terrified at what he had seen.

He did not get far, not at all.

Not even two steps into flight, he was brought down by a great weight slamming into his backside. His face was shoved violently into the floor, breaking the skin on his lips. A voice hissed in his ear, "What did you do to Canada to scar him so badly?" France wormed, trying and failing desperately to shake the Prussian off his back. "Nothing! I don't know what you are talking about! I would never, in a million years, hurt Matthieu!"

Prussia smiled a disturbed smile. "But you did. Think back Francis. Think back to long, long ago. Do you remember when Canada was living underneath you, as your colony?"

France stilled, thinking. Yes, he did remember Canada living with him. He smiled slightly. Canada, with his soft blonde hair so very much alike his own and gentle, shy demeanor. France loved his little colony, very much indeed. It broke his heart the day that bastard England stole the boy away. France's eyes stung as tears rose. That terrible day and all its painful events were still etched deep within his mind, and with the mention of colonial Canada forced that horrible memory to rise...

_"Papa?" Asked a young Canada, tugging at France's pant leg. The man looked down at his adopted son. "Oui, mon fils?" He said, unable to help a smile creeping across his unblemished face. The child at his feet was just so adorable and sweet, looking up at his father with soft violet eyes and a hand near his mouth. "There's someone at the door. He says he wants to see you." _

_ France nodded. "What's that in French?" He asked. Canada's eyes closed slightly as he concentrated. "Um... Il ya quelqu'un a la... porte. Il dit qu'il ve... veut... veut vous voir!" By the time he had finished, the small boy's cheeks had flushed slightly red with effort. France smiled gently, reaching down to pat Canada's head. "Well done, mon fils. A little practice and you will be as good as moi."_

_ The blonde flinched a bit at France's hand, but beamed at his father's praise. "Now," continued France, sweeping his son into his arms, "Let's go see who this person is."_

_ They walked down the hall and into the grand foyer, Canada nestled against his papa's chest. France opened the door, a winning grin on his face. "Bonjour! Welcome to my-" He was cut off abruptly by the other person. "Shut up, you bloody frog! I've come for the boy, not to exchange pleasantrys. Hand him over."_

_ France drew back, just a tad. "England? What-... What are you saying?" England crossed his arms. "Canada. I've got custody of him now, so release him you stupid wanker!" _

_ France put one hand over Canada's ear and forced the other further against his chest. "Language, Arthur! What do you mean by you 'have custody of him now'?" _

_ The shorter man scowled. "I mean I'm taking this colony away. Canada is mine now. Will you give him willingly, or do I have to force you to?" France stared, bewildered. "What? No! Canada is mon son. You can't have him! What makes you think you can just march over and lay claim to him, who has been mine for god know how long?" _

_ England smirked. "Good question." He fished out a folded-up sheet of tan paper and held it in front of the others face. "This does. Read it, weep, and hand Matthew over." France narrowed his eyes and began reading. He got halfway through before swatting it away. "This means nothing! You cannot have Canada, and that's final! Now,go away!" He said, angrily closing the door. England smirked again, blocking the way with his toe. "I believe it does. I'm going to count to three, then I will forcefully take him away. One." France gaped at him. "You can't be serious!"_

_ "I am. Two."_

_ "No means no! Now leave us ALONE!"_

_ England shook his head. "To quote, 'no means no.' I will not leave. Three."_

_ With that, he wrenched the door open with more strength than he normally had. France turned and fled, tucking his precious son into the crook of his arm. Canada clenched his papa's arm, scared. Why was this man with his weird eyebrows trying to take him away? Couldn't he see that, despite what had... Happened... They had a good life together?_

_ Frantically, France ran deeper into the house, heading for his basement. This day had been long in coming, but he had prepared for it, changing spare guest bedroom into a titanium-plated safe room, complete with food and water (Enough for a few months), a stove, two beds, extra blankets, a generator, access to the houses' cameras, and a radio. But he had underestimated the growing strength of the British Empire. With England's newfound power, the room itself would hold him at bay for 5 minutes, maximum. But those 5 minutes would be more time with his rightful son, and less for that monster England._

_ He reached the basement, throwing the lock behind him. On every door, he had installed heavy-duty deadlocks, again in preparation for this day. France had locked as many as he could on the way, making sure that every door he came across was locked. Even if said room didn't lead directly to the basement, anything that would hamper England was beneficial. Behind him, he could hear what must have been curses as the invading nation encountered the maze that was France's mansion. Many a time, Francis had been awakened in the dead of night by Canada crying for his papa to come rescue him, as he was lost. But, as almost everything was in the house, this was done in prep for this very day. This house itself had been built with one goal: Protect Canada from England. At all costs._

_ France bolted down the stairs as fast as he could without dropping his treasured son, his only son. Thankfully, the room wasn't far._

_ Canada clung, burr-like, to his papa. He didn't have a clue what was going on, except that the man with the big eyebrows was trying to steal him, and his papa was terrified. _

_ France threw open the safe room door, jumping inside. He whirled around and locked the door, using all 5 of them. He dropped onto one of the beds, turning on the camera monitors. Many had been broken and were delivering only gray fuzz, but the important ones were running. One in particular showed a depressing picture. It showed England pounding a lock, in a guest bedroom not on the direct route to the basement. However, the room he was hacking into did. As the lock he was hammering gave out, he turned to the camera. "I'm coming, France. I know where you are headed, and WILL get Canada from you."_

_ He turned back to the door, and in one powerful, ringing kick downed the door. Bending down, he wrenched out the deadbolt. He cocked his arm, and with a final smug grin hurled it at the camera._

_ The screen flashed white, then started broadcasting gray fuzz._

_ France's eyes welled up with frustrated tears. Why! Who's sick idea of a joke was this? After his first and only true love, __Jeanne D'arc,_ _was burned at stake, he swore to himself that he would never be happy or love ever again. But when he found Canada, wandering alone in thick woods, he found life. There was something about this child, with his vulnerable aura and somewhat ignorant personality, that drew France to him. Canada, in his mind, needed protection, a good home, and a papa. And who better to fulfill this role than himself? After adopting little Matthieu, France found meaning. He found a reason to live, to laugh, to breath. _

_ And now that was all going to end, just to sate an Englishman's mad appetite for power. _

_ He drew Canada closer, lowering his nose into the child's soft blonde hair, so much like his own. How could he bear to have this innocent child torn away from him? The first of many hot tears burned a track down his face, both in memory_ and real life.

Prussia frowned as France's eyes welled up with pitifully bittersweet tears. What was going through this sick bastard's mind? Was this a trick, designed to guilt Prussia release him?

_Canada felt something warm and damp plink onto his head. He looked up, amethyst eyes widening. His papa was crying! "Papa?" He asked, reaching one tiny hand up to wipe France's eyes. _

_ France, despite everything that was happening, smiled through his tears. His little Canada was so sweet, so cute. His petite face was creased with worry as he beheld Francis, mouth puckering confusedly. One small hand reached up, and gently wiped away his tears. A lump grew in his throat at the boy's word. "Are you ok?" Asked Canada, violet eyes betraying obvious worry. France shuddered, tears coming faster, heavier. He didn't reply, only pulled the child close against his chest."Mon fils," He began, voice cracking. "I cannot lie to you."_

_ Canada looked up, more worried than before. "About what?" He asked, grasping France's forearm. France stifled a sob. "My dearest Matthiew, that man's name is England. And he is going to take you away from me. I just want you to know that, no matter what, I love you. Mon fils, Je t'aime. Always." _

_ He kissed the top of Canada's head again, unable to hold back all his tears any longer. They burst forth, streaming downwards in almost wicked glee. _

_ He and Matthieu sat in silence, watching as their fate drew ever nearer, one downed door at a time. Each England kicked open a door, he would look right into the camera and repeat his wicked message: "I'm coming, France. I know where you are headed, and WILL get Canada from you.". Then, he would wrench the deadbolt from its place and throw it at the camera, knocking it out._

_ Finally, there was a great racket as England felled the basement door. Matthieu squeaked, burying his face into France's capelet. France hugged the child, patting his back. "Papa!" He exclaimed suddenly, looking up. His eyes were filled with a desperate hope. "Can't I hide somewhere?" _

_ France sighed, stroking Canada's hair. "No. He would only find you, and I don't want England to punish you somehow for hiding."_

_ Canada's face contorted into an expression of total despair. "Papa! We have to do something! Please, I don't want to go! Don't make me leave!" He begged, voice climbing into a wail. It broke France's heart to shake his head. The child's eyes flooded with water, and he pounded one tiny fist into the bed. "But its so unfair!" He yelled in his squeaky chibi voice. France placed a hand over Canada's mouth. "Ssshhh!" He hissed, thankful that the others yell wasn't much louder than a normal voice._

_ Canada fell silent, listening. Distantly, but growing ever louder, was England. He was... Singing?_

_ "Flare up and burn intensely_

_ And turn it into crisp from corner to corner._

_ Don't even leave a single trace,_

_ And burn the souls to crisp!_

_ Flare up and burn intensely, _

_ Heed and an-"_

_ France felt Canada shaking in fear. He didn't blame him. England's song was creepy to an adult like himself. What would it be like to a small child? He took a breath. "Sing something more pleasant!" He yelled._

_ England laughed menacingly. "Scared? Fine, I'll sing else." He responded, sounding much closer. There was a pause, and he started again, clapping._

_ "Front front front my baby, _

_ Side side side my baby,_

_ Back back back my baby,_

_ This is how it goes._

_ Ride, ride, ride that mustang._

_ Ride, ride, ride that mustang._

_ Ride, ride, ride that mustang._

_ This is how it goes."_

_ The voice stopped. Footsteps sounded again, and a shadow was seen through the crack in the door._

_ "That's a favorite chant of America's. There's a game of sorts that goes along with it. I'm sure you will like it, Canada. We play it quite often." Said their tormentor, knocking on the door. France gasped in pain as his little boy clutched him even tighter. Where did this mere child get so much strength? _

_ "Solid door, Frog. How much did it cost? I hope a lot, because I'm about to tear it down." The shadow moved back. France wrapped his arms protectively around Canada._

_ BAAAAAMMMMMM! The door shook in its frame as England kicked it with both feet. Against all odds, it held. The shadow disappeared again, only to return a few moments later._

_ BBBAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMM! Rang the steel door. The walls themselves shook, and would have fractured if France hadn't plated them with titanium. "Hmph. You've done a better job than I thought." Sneered England from the other side. _

_ "But never will it be enough."_

_ SLABAMMMMMMMM!_

_ CCCCRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSH HHHHHHHHHH!_

_ CCCCRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAACCCCKKKK !_

_ With each blow, the door bent more and more. But the locks and wall held. France had just begun to think they were safe, when _

_BBBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMM!_

_ The door snapped in half. England stood in the frame, one foot raised and arms spread for balance. It would have been comical, if the situation hadn't been so grim._

_ "That was a fun diversion, but now it's time to go home. Matthew, come here." Ordered the man, pointing to the air besides him. Canada looked at him with wide, fear-filled eyes. "Come along, Matthew. Now." His voice carried a hint of threat. The child in question only clung tighter to his papa. England looked at France. "Must I take him forcefully?" He asked, sighing a bit._

_ France glared at him, getting angry. "You just destroyed part of his home! Do you honestly think he's going to come to your side like a dog when you order it?"_

_ "Yes, as a matter of fact I do. Canada. Come here, NOW. I'll give you until three. If you choose not to, something very bad will happen to your dad. One."_

_ Canada looked up at France, confused and scared. If he didn't go with the bad man, something terrible would happen to his papa. But he didn't want to leave, he wanted to stay here! His papa almost never mistreated him. There was that one time, but..._

_ "Two." Said England, crossing his arms impatiently. _

_ Poor Matthew, thought France dully. Poor, poor child._

_ "Three." Stated England. He sighed. "Last chance, Canada. Come here." _

_ The child didn't move. _

_ England rubbed his hands together. "Wonderful. Let's get started, shall we?" He asked with a wicked grin. Closing his eyes, he began chanting something under his breath. The effect on France was immediate. His arms untangled themselves from Canada, moving jerkily as if something else was controlling them. France gasped, blue eyes widening in shock. "England! What are-" He was cut off by a sudden shooting pain is his throat. He gasped through his nose. What was happening? His arms, now free of Canada, began prying the boy off of him. With each passing second, they moved more fluidly, like someone learning how to read. I get it, thought France. He's going to make me give him mon fils, and cut off my beautiful speech. He began to fight England's control, but to no avail. Frustrated tears rose and fell anew, dropping onto the bed._

_ Canada began to struggle, scared and confused. Why was his papa pulling away? Did he not want him anymore? As if to confirm his fears, France's voice sounded. _

_ "Matthieu, let go of me. You will be going with Mr. Kirkland. I don't want you anymore. Get away from me."_

_ He was too young to hear the forced quality of the words, too little to hear the buried pain._

_ Canada stopped fighting, shocked. Those arms took the opportunity to hand him over to England. Said man smiled down at him, forest green eyes glimmering gently. "Thank you, France." He said, looking over with a grin. "Let's go home, Canada. You can meet your brother. Doesn't that sound exciting?" He asked, walking away from the scene._

_ France felt that strange power leave him, hopefully forever. Black clouds hung at the edges of his vision, threatening to come crashing down at any second. France's head spun. He had just handed over Canada. His only son, gone. What had he done? And those words he had been forced to utter... Untrue! But yet, he had said them. How? HOW? A single sob ripped itself from his chest. He collapsed, defeated. The clouds crashed in, rendering him unconscious and to dream of what had once been with Jeanne D'arc._

Prussia got off of his friend's back, slightly alarmed. France had been zoning out for a good 5 minutes, obviously lost in memory. A few minutes ago, he had began crying and hadn't stopped. Put simply, the albino, for once is his long life, was uncertain. He got up, then sat back down. He paced. He stared out the window. He texted Canada. Time passed. Life went on.

And Prussia got bored. As we all know, bad things happen when Prussia gets bored.

He wandered into the spacious kitchen, thinking. Now that he wasn't pissed off, doubts began to flood his mind. France was one of his only friends. How could he kill him? Sure, they argued about fabulous vs. awesome, but in the end they were great friends. But he had hurt Canada. HIS Canada. That, in the Prussian's mind, was unforgivable. But then, he would circle back to the friendship problem.

He slammed an angered fist onto the countertop. Dammit! What was he suppose to do? Something caught his eyes. Just outside the open kitchen window was a garden hose. He grinned mischievously. Maybe, just maybe, he could wake up France and demand his side of the story.

Five minutes later...

Prussia grunted as he lugged the heavy hose through the house. The blonde Frenchman was still lying in the foyer, tears still silently streaming down his pale cheeks. Perfect, thought Prussia.

"Hey, France!" Said nation slowly looked. "Oui?"

He was met with the call of "WAKE UP!" and a face-full of cold water. He jerked back, shaken from his reprieve. "Knock it off!" He tried to say, but only succeeded in getting his mouth flooded. Prussia laughed at the shocked expression on France's face, but regretfully stopped the flow after a minute. He allowed France to breathe for a few moments before aiming again. France flinced, but the icy jet never came. Instead, he heard the following:

"I'm going to ask some questions. If you don't answer or lie to me, I will spray you. Got it? Good.

First question: Is it true that you raped Canada when he was a chibi?"


	10. Is this love?

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED**

* * *

France answered immediately. "No! Why do you keep asking me?" He asked, eyes glinting in annoyance. He made a move to get up, wringing out his hair. Prussia open fired with the hose again. "I didn't tell you to get up! Now, quit with the stupid act and answer the damn question!" He growled, forcing the other down. The flow should have cut off any attempt from the blonde to speak, but despite that Prussia saw his mouth moving, as if trying to tell him something. He eased up on the pressure, careful to keep the water off his uniform. "Ready to confess?" He asked, purposely putting a threatening edge to the question.

France coughed, water spraying out of his gaping mouth. "Please," he gasped, fighting to get the words out, "I'm not playing stupid. What did I do?"

Prussia wrestled the urge to spray him. It was obvious to him if he kept that up, all he would accomplish was drowning the country. Despite how tantalizingly appealing the notion sounded, he would not. The Awesome Prussia would never be reduced to do something as unawesome as murder.

"When I went to Canada's today," he said, keeping his voice slow and simple, "He freaked out because I walked in on him showering."

France's eyebrows shot up. "Onhonhonhon~ You saw my Canad-"

He was cut off by another icy jet to the face.

When he recovered from the blast, Prussia stared him in the eyes menacingly. "Put your perverted tendencies aside for a few minutes and just listen."

"When he saw me, he freaked out, even going so far as to try taking mein awesome head off with a shampoo bottle. He was shaking, eyes wide as if something straight out of his worst nightmares were in front of him instead of me. Then, he started screaming. Do you know what he was screaming?"

He paused, looking at France. "He shouted, yes shouted, 'NO! GET AWAY', 'NO! PLEASE! NOT AGAIN! NNOOOOO!' and finally, 'GO! GET AWAY FROM ME, FRANCE!'

Said nation's blonde, perfectly-shaped eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Me?" He asked incredulously. "Why?"

Prussia frowned. "I'm getting to that. Now shut up, dammit!" he said, annoyed.

"When he came out, I asked what that was about. To make a long story short, you raped him in the shower when he was just a chibi."

France stared, shocked. "No!" He denied, shaking his head so fast his neck cracked. "Its impossible! I would never, and have no memory of committing such an atrocious act!" He cried, slightly panicked. Maybe that was the reason Canada was so afraid of being alone with him. But he hadn't done it! Right?

Prussia exhaled sharply. "YOU. DID." He spat out disgustedly, each word richly coated with venom. "As a matter of fact," He said, an idea striking him, "We are going to see Canada. You can hear it from him, and then apologize. In return, I won't seize the Eiffel Tower." Frances face paled. "You wouldn't dare!" He whispered. Prussia smirked, knowing all-to-well what the Tower was to France. "I would. And we both know what would happen if I did," He said, leaning close to Frances ear. "No more vital regions for youuuu." The albino whispered, dragging out the final syllable. France jerked away, blue eyes widening with horror at the notion. Prussia stifled a 'Kesesesesese~' at the sight.

"Alright! I'll do it!" Cried France. The albino smiled, getting up. "We're taking your car." He said, striding into the kitchen. He grabbed the keys and rejoined the blonde, who was now standing, in the foyer. "Oh," he remarked casually, "And I'm driving."

France immediately protested, but Prussia didn't bother to listen. He pushed past his friend (?) and stepped out into the bright sunshine of the French countryside. He whistled twice, shrill at fist, then falling flat. A few seconds later, Gilbird swooped out of nowhere, trailed by a smaller white dove. He grinned at it. "Who's this, Gilbird? Have you found another?" He asked in a mock hurt voice.

He studied the dove a bit closer, noting the way it moved. It moved as if the air itself was fragile, like the slightest flap would shatter it. It had milky purple eyes, and one strange wispy feather drifting by the side of its silvery face. Prussia frowned. This bird reminded him of Canada, right down to the movement.

France opened the door behind him, disrupting his studies. The dove shot away at the noise, softly chirping in alarm. Gilbird flew after him/her, but gave up at his masters whistle.

They walked to the car, a sleek red GT concept, in silence. Prussia opened the door, snickering to himself at Frances pained look. He accidentally-on-purpose hit his door on the garage side, ellicting a barely-contained gasp from the other. He grinned wickedly. This was going to be fun.

_**~Awesome Transition~**_

After nearly a half hour of speeding, cutting off other cars, drifting onto the dusty road shoulder, and basically doing everything in his power to wreck the vehicle deposited the duo in front of Canada's moderately-sized abode. Painted white with red shutters, one side of the house had roses spiraling in a design vaguely resembling a maple leaf, while daisys lazily waved in the wind.

Prussia smiled slightly. From here, he could see right into the kitchen, where his beautiful Canada sat chewing on a pencil.

France let out a pained whimper. "My car..." He murmured, voice hollow. "You completely destroyed it! Do you know how much work I put into it? This entire thing is French-made! It cost a-"

The albino one cut him off with a wave of a hand. "Yea yea yea. Lets go." He said airily, striding up the walk. Behind him, France muttered something under his breath and followed him, obviously surly.

"Canadaaaaaa! I'm baacckkk! And I brought back somebody you might not want to see!" Prussia said in a singsong voice, pulling off his boots and walking to Canada's side. The shy man jumped, eyes widening and head snapping up at the others' declaration. "Prussia! Didn't you ever hear of knocking?" he asked, gently adjusting his glasses, curiously noting the Teutonic Knight uniform. The one in question stretched, hands arching high above his head. "Yea," He said, voice slightly strained. "But I thought you would like to hear my awesomeness firsthand instead of it being announced by a doorbell or by something so unawesome as knocking."

Canada shook his head, bemused. There was something about the way Prussia extruded charm and confidence, even though he was no longer a nation. Said albino halted mid-stretch, eyes sliding toward the front door. "Hey!" He yelled, sprinting toward the opening. What followed made Canada nervous. It sounded like Prussia was fighting somebody. But who?

The blonde half-rose in his seat, hesitating. Should he go help? Despite common myth, Canada was a powerful nation, a force to be reckoned with. As a matter of fact, he had done more in both World Wars than his stupid brother had. As another matter of fact, Germany was terrified of him. Why? Just a little (big) battle named Vimy Ridge.

As it turned out, he hadn't need to deliberate about going to help.

Something blue and red streaked past him, heading for the kitchen. Prussia followed close behind, a slightly wild gleam to his blood-red eyes. Canada's eyes widened alarmingly, and he reached out as the former Teutonic Knight sprinted past, not thinking as his hand closed around the albino's elbow.

!!_!_**!**_**!**_

Canada crashed roughly cheek-first into the hardwood floor, bringing the other with him. Down they went in a tangle of limbs, the chair falling to trap them. Something bit into Canada's left shoulder, and something nailed Prussia in his 5 meters. Said albino gasped, head jerking up in pain as a light red crept across his pale, pale features. In the act, his own awesome hair brushed against the blondes'.

That is, directly against that odd curl.

His own face flushed slightly and his violet eyes widened. His eyes flashed toward Prussia's face, searching for malicious intent, and froze there. A reddish blush had spread across his milky face, and those strikingly bold cherry eyes had locked into place on Canada's viola orbs. For one second, the world stopped spinning as the twos' gazes met in an electrifying shock.

**Have his eyes always been this awesomely entrancing?**

_Have I always overlooked the perfect shape of his face, even if it's tainted red?_

**What a beautiful face, made better by a blush.**

_And those stunning eyes..._

**How can others overlook and forget such a nation?**

_How could the others vote him out of nationhood?_

**I wish I could force them to see him as I do now.**

_If only they could view him in the same light._

**My heart...**

_It's beating so fast._

**Can he hear it?**

_He must._

**I wonder if...**

_What if..._

_**Is This Love?**_

"OnhonhonhonhonhonhonhonhonHO NHON~!"

Just like that, the moment was broken.

* * *

Damn you France, in more ways than one! I'm sorry for being MIA for the past ever. I have NO excuse. ANYWAYS, running the risk of sounding like a review-whore, I beg you, **BEG** you to review. In all honesty, those are the only reason I haven't given up on this story. Anyways x2, just in case you were confused on the last part _Italics are Canada,_ **Bold is Prussia, ****_and bold Italics are both of them._**


	11. Just leave

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED.**

* * *

Prussia whipped his head up, smashing it on the chair. "FRAANNCCEEEE!" H bellowed, slamming the furniture away and leaping to his feet. France waggled his eyebrows, still laughing his strange laugh. "Mon ami, do not be angry! I approve, very much so. It's only right that someone like my Canada should be-"

He was cut off by a pale, pale hand slamming over his mouth. "One," Prussia growled quietly into his ear, "He is no longer 'yours'. Two," He continued, taking a step back and speaking louder, "I want you to apologize to Canada. Right now."

France cocked an eyebrow. "For?" Canada picked himself up off the ground, putting the chair back in its rightful place. "Yes, Prussia. What for?"

Said albino stared intensely into the northern nations' eyes, like he had just a few moments ago. "For what he did to you."

The blonde immediately stiffened. "What are you talking about?" He asked, voice carrying a trace of warning. "When you were little, France raped you. You told me that." Prussia said slowly, slightly confused. Canada's jaw muscles tensed. "That never happened. Why would he say something like that?"

What? Thought Prussia, bewildered. Was he lying now, or had he been lying a few hours ago, when he had 'confessed'?

"I think you should all leave." Said Canada, picking up his bear Kumajirou. "Now." He had a determined, slightly fearful look in his eye. France frowned, obviously hurt by the remark.

"What is wrong, mon fi-"

He was cut off by Canada raising a hand. "Leave!" He said again, putting more force behind the word. Prussia knew that, if the rumours about the nations supposed stubborn streak were true, then France would not win this argument.

"But Cana-"

"LEAVE!"

All three men jumped, none of them expecting the yell.

"Fine. If really do not wish to visit with your papa, that's fine. I have other places to be. Good day." France said, voice sounding forced. He walked past them, body loose as if trying to project aloofness. Just before he left, Prussia saw a single tear run down his face.

The door echoed painfully loud in the silence that followed his banishment.

Prussia awkwardly straightened his scabbard, unsure for the 2nd time that day and the 5th time in his long, bloody life. The other three had been (In order)- Once on the battlefield long, long, LONG ago, another on whether to or not to attack his bruder to control more land, and recently whether or not to agree on giving up his identity as Prussia, instead becoming East Germany. He bitterly regretted the last decision, foolishly putting hope in the Soviet Union. They had enslaved his people, and built the Wall, isolating him from the world. He tremored slightly, forcing away terrible memories of That time. He needed to focus on the present, which consisted of himself and Canada.

"You don't have to leave." Came a quiet voice. Prussia grinned. "I didn't think I had to." He said, lying.

Canada inhaled, nervousness writing itself over his perfect features. "I want to tell you something. About earlier- Well, I don't know what I was thinking. If you don't want to stay with me or are disgusted with me, that's alright. I understand. After all, why would someone as awesome as you want to be associated with a plain nobody like me?"

Both red and lilac eyes flew open at the last sentence. Prussia stared at the other, hardly believing what had just been uttered. Canada stared at the floor, mentally shouting at himself. Why did you say that?! Why? Are you determined to lose the one person in this life who actually noticed you? What is wrong with you? "Matthew," Said Prussia, surprising himself at the use of Canada's human name. "What are you saying?"

Canada remained silent, only blinking. Prussia tried again. "Matthew. What do you mean?"

The northern nation's jaw muscles clenched, as if trying to keep in secrets. Prussia sighed. "Please, Canada, Matthew, Birdie," (Birdie? Thought Canada.) "Please, tell me what's wrong."

An agonizingly long minute passed. Finally, finally, the blonde opened his mouth, and spoke up in a soft, yet firm voice.

"Get. Out."

* * *

*groans* Here it is, chapter... 10? 11? 9? I have no clue. So, for a long time I had absolutely NO clue on where I was going with this story. But now I know ^_^

Anyways, I don't know. I'm rambling. Maihai~


	12. DO NOT TOUCH THAT!

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANYTHING HETALIA-RELATED**

* * *

"Huh?" said Prussia, thinking he had misheard. Canada looked him straight in the eyes, and repeated in a monotone. "Get out. Now."

Prussia furrowed his eyebrows confusedly. "Why should the Awesome Me leave?"

Silence followed. Neither knew what to say or do. Prussia stared at the other nation, noting the way sunlight hit his blonde hair Just the right way, setting the tips on golden fire. His eyes aren't half bad, either. That violet looks amazingly AWESOME on him, he mused.

Canada, on the other hand, wasn't thinking about how handsome Prussia was. Quite the opposite, actually. He was trying NOT to think about the others good looks and... surprising personality. For if he did, then the northern nation knew he would end up confessing, and that was not an option.

"Whatcha thinking about?" asked Prussia, innocence colouring his tone. Canada bit his tongue, then repeated once more. "Get. Out!" Prussia crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "First you tell me I don't have to leave, but now I do. Well, what went wrong in that time frame, Birdie?" He asked, a smirk creeping across his features. He was SO going to get Canada to crack.

Said country raised his eyebrow, mirroring the albino. "Birdie? My name is either Matthew or Canada. Where did 'Birdie' come from?"

Prussia grinned fully. "At France's house, there was this dove that Gilbird had awesomely taken to. It reminded me of you."

Canada's gut clenched at that last sentence, uttered so flippantly and guiltless. How did Prussia not know what he was doing? How could just 5 little words, so simple and childish, give him butterflies?

The albino knew exactly what he was doing. He was going to make Canada crack and tell him what was wrong. And he was close, that much was obvious. He just needed one final push...

"Prussia, I would really appreciate it if -PRUSSIA!" screamed the Canuk as he was tackled to the ground. He began laughing wildly as Prussia tickled- yes, tickled- his ribs. "St-st-stophaha! P-Prussia! Knock i-hahaha!"

Prussia laughed right along with the Canadian. What could he say? Laughter was contagious, especially Canada's. He reached out, grabbing one of the countries feet. "No!" Shrieked Canada, which was all the go-ahead Prussia needed. He gripped Canada's ankle, and commenced tickling.

"Mph!" grunted the ex-nation, having received a hefty kick to the gut from the other. Still he held firm. "If you want me to stop," said Prussia, keeping as far away as possible from that deadly free foot, "Then tell me what's wrong."

Canada, who's face was flushed a brilliant red and was having obvious trouble breathing, could only pant out an answer between hysterics- "Ok! Ohaha-kay! Let me gohahahahaha!"

Prussia stopped with his attack and allowed Matthew to recover his breath, but still held the foot. Just in case.

Finally, Canada's face returned to its natural colour. "Don't ever do that again!" He said, putting as much force behind the words as possible. "And give me back my foot!" He attempted to take back the appendage, but it was stuck fast.

"Can't do either of those, Birdie-"

"My name is Matthew or Canada!"

"-Until you tell me why you tried to throw Awesomeness out the door." Finished the ex-country, ignoring Canada's protest.

The pinned nation sighed,the urge to spill rising powerfully. He tried to fight it, but it was only a matter of time before whatever was being held back came out, and they both knew it.

"Please? Please, please, please, please PLEASE tell me!" Begged Prussia, sounding like a schoolgirl pestering her best friend to be told about a crush.

Canada glared angrily. Suddenly, an Idea struck the albino. Slowly, he dropped the Canuk's foot and turned away.

"Hey Birdie?" He asked, putting as much sadness into his tones as possible. Canada sat up, wary. "What?"

"Do you hate me?" Prussia asked, staring at the carpet. "It seems like you do." He began picking at his nails, arranging his milky face into dejection. "You won't tell me anything, even though there's obviously something wrong that I could help with. But I should probably go. I don't want to waste any more of your time."

He stood, still staring at the floor. Canada rose with him and put a comforting hand on the others' shoulder. "Prussia" he began, feeling absolutely awful. The ex-nation wasn't easily depressed, but this... Well, it was crushing him.

Now! Thought the albino.

"I'm sorry, bu-" That sentence would forever remain unfinished, for at that very moment Prussia chose to spin toward the Canadian,

And kiss him full on the lips for the second time that day.

Canada stood inanimate for a few seconds, stunned. One of Prussia's hands crept up to the others cheek, cradling it tenderly. The other wrapped around the Canuk's ribs, drawing him closer.

The blonde wanted to pull away, wanted to deny his feelings. He envisioned himself breaking out of the others embrace, telling him to back off and go home. He saw the albino leaving him to his hockey and maple syrup, never to return.

But he couldn't do it. If he did, he would be alone. Again. He couldn't be alone, not now. Not after he knew that there was finally somebody out there who noticed him, who CARED.

So instead, Canada took a mental breath and kissed back, wrapping his arm around the others torso.

When they broke apart, Prussia flashed a toothy grin. "Where did you learn to kiss like that, Birdie?" he asked, slightly breathless. The maple-lover turned his face, a blush as red as his countries flag staining his cheeks. Prussia snickered, reaching a hand to brush some hair away from his beautiful Canada's face. On the way, he accidentally brushed against that peculiar curl.

Immediately, the blonde stiffened, inhaling sharply through his nose. "Don't... Don't do that." He squeaked out, tense. The albino cocked his head, curious. "Do what? This?" He flicked that curl, watching it bounce back into position. Canada bit his lip, cheeks dyeing themselves darker.

"Please! Don't do that!" he repeated, moving his head as far away from the albino as possible. (Though, it must be noted, he didn't try to break away from his captor.)

"Why? It's just hair." He gave it another flick, curiously watching the way it made his Birdie flinch. Canada bit both of his lips, sealing in any sounds that might have escaped. He shook his head vigorously, hoping that Prussia would get the hint. He put his hands against the others' chest and pushed, prying the ex-nation off.

"Don't! Do! That!" he said, turning away slightly. Prussia laughed his signature laugh. "But its SO fun!" He said, reaching his hand toward the curl again. Canada grabbed his wrist, not looking at the albino. "Gilbert Beilschmidt, you listen up. Do not, under any circumstances, touch my curl EVER again. Got it?" He growled out.

"Sassy Birdie. I like it!" Teased Prussia, breaking out of Canada's grip. "I'm serious! Don-" Protested the maple-lover, just before his poor curl was all-out pulled.

And wasn't released.

* * *

FIRST THINGS FIRST: I apologize for this story's neglect. "Our" internet went bye-bye, and the library recently changed the Wi-fi code, only they lost whatever they wrote it on and none of the librarians remember it. Nice, eh? ANYWAYS, whatcha guys think? Which direction should the story spin? So many possibilities, but there's only one story. *Sigh*. Tell me in a review! Let me tell you people something: Even if you don't get a reply from the author, I can easily reassure you that any and all comments are loved and appreciated, blah blah blah, moving on. (Wow, this is a long author's note :p) Would you, my dear readers, like to be called anything? If you don't and think "Wow, that's stupid.", then don't say anything and let the rest of us have fun ^_^. ALRIGHT, I have to go. I need to get ready for school. *wince*. Maihai~


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